


Baby Girl

by Alsike



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Attempted Rape, Child Abuse, F/F, Forced Prostitution, Prostitution
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-02-06
Updated: 2012-02-06
Packaged: 2017-10-30 16:39:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/333816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alsike/pseuds/Alsike
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Special Victims Unit pursues perpetrators of sex crimes and defends victims, but sometimes it's hard to tell the difference, especially when you're looking at yourself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Olivia got the email at noon.  She sat and stared at the perfunctory notification for a long time.  She couldn’t feel anything.  It was too bland and impersonal.  Just another meaningless event in a meaningless world.  There was no one she could tell, no one who could respond, empathize, and remind her that people could care, that it wasn’t a crime to care.  No one knew she kept tabs on the kids, electronic tagging that she had learned in her stint with cyber crime.  She had mentioned something about it to Elliot once and he had looked at her as if he were inches away from shouting for Huang.  It wasn’t _that_ obsessive.  

It didn’t feel that strange either.  If she had been a normal person, a real person, not just a worthless shell, she would have had friends; she would have been invited to graduations and weddings, funerals too.  But she wasn’t a normal person, and the people she knew weren’t normal either.  This was all she had.  Sometimes it was enough to make a rotten day great, when she got news of one of the kids’ successes.  A teenage boy who had been raped and abused by his step dad had just graduated from med-school as a surgeon.  It had launched her to the moon with happiness.  She had given a toast out with the guys and she had made up something about the kid being a friend’s progeny when none of the guys remembered the name.  Then Elliot had asked if she was going to the ceremony.  Now _that_ would have been obsessive.

Today was just the opposite.  She brought it up in the pen indirectly.

“Do you remember Maria?”

“Huh?” Elliot looked blank.

“Maria, kidnapped on her birthday, porn, buried alive.”

“Oh, vaguely.”

Olivia just nodded.  He didn’t care.  But how could he know that that girl, who had just died of an infection picked up at the group home, was one she had considered adopting.  She had seriously considered it, but had talked herself out of it with arguments like “my Spanish is terrible,” and “I work too much, and I couldn’t change that.”  They sounded so frail to her now.  It made her wonder sometimes, if all these kids that they ‘saved’ weren’t worse off for their interference, for their indifference.  The system failed them.  It didn’t protect them when they needed protection.  It didn’t rescue them when they needed rescuing.  It didn’t give them the basic amount of safety they needed to grow up.

But that was crazy talk.  Even if it didn’t always work, the system was better than nothing.  It was just hard to tell herself that.  And there was no one to talk her out of her funk.

Casey walked into the bullpen, her shoes making too large a clatter for her tiny frame.  Olivia winced.  She still hadn’t gotten to know the new DA even though she had been there for almost a year.  Somehow she couldn’t forgive her for something that was entirely Olivia’s fault.  Olivia had started the fight.  Olivia had blamed Alex for getting that fed killed.  Alex had nearly died.  A little boy’s family had been murdered.  And Olivia had come into work one day, seen the innocent face of Casey Novak and realized that she had blown it.  Their relationship was ruined for good.

Even after she came back, Alex wouldn’t return her calls.  That was too far gone to salvage.  But she should probably try to make an effort to get to know Casey before that ship sailed too and Olivia became known as the bitch of the 1-6.  Casey looked irritated though.  Maybe she’d make an effort tomorrow.

***

Casey _was_ irritated.  Lucy had called her no less than six times already today making sure she’d show up for the party tonight.  She didn’t even want to know what Lucy had promised her friends if she was that invested in Casey being there.  Casey was totally not in the mood to go to the party.  She had been fighting with a defense attorney for most of the week over a plea bargain that she didn’t even want to take and just wanted to go home and sleep.  It was Friday night; she deserved rest.  Even getting fucked wasn’t much of a lure.  Particularly because parties meant Lucy made sure all of her friends got a good helping of Casey’s talented mouth before she was distracted enough to let someone ( _anyone)_ get Casey off.  Usually it was a guy, and Casey had left all interest in _that_ behind her _long ago_.  That was the reason she had a girlfriend, even if said girlfriend had a tendency to forget her entirely when faced by a delightful variety of untried sexual partners.

Casey was so busy grumbling to herself that she didn’t even notice she was in the bullpen until she nearly tripped and fell face first onto Olivia’s desk.  She caught her balance and blushed fiercely, noticing Olivia’s bemused expression.  She hated to admit it, but she was kind of scared of Olivia.  There was just something about her that read, “I am a paragon of virtue!  I can see your sins as if they were written in ink upon your face!”  And Casey couldn’t help feeling mildly guilty even if she didn’t have anything to feel guilty about.  

It reminded her of how she used to feel around Father Leo, the priest at the church her family had gone to when she was young.  He was one of those round-faced smiling old men, who always shook your hand, even if you were four and covered in chocolate.  He radiated goodness and forgiveness and generosity, and Casey had nearly blurted out all her darkest fantasies to him many times.  Some of them had been very intimately involved with items of religious paraphernalia.  But she had managed to keep her mouth shut.  Even when she had to go to confession before being confirmed she had just hummed and managed to mutter something about coveting her sister’s clothes, taste in clothing was probably more accurate, but it was better than admitting that sitting in the confessional booth made her horny.

Luckily the erotic associations she had with Catholicism were not also connected to police work, so she didn’t have the exact same problems around Olivia.  And sex parties with consenting adults weren’t technically illegal, so she really had no reason to confess herself at all.  Although…  

Every once in a while she wondered what it would be like to have one of the parties busted up by the SVU, and have Olivia and Elliot storm in, guns waving, and catch her handcuffed with her head between some stranger’s legs.  That one definitely bordered on erotic fantasy associated with her job, but it was most definitely a fantasy.  Humiliation was a lot sexier in the imagination than in real life.

***

Jen lay in the dark room listening to the breathing of the other kids whom she would never consider her siblings.  She was waiting.  She had been waiting for three years.  She wondered what she was waiting for.  She didn’t wish for it to come; she never felt anything hard enough to wish anymore.

Her stomach hurt.  One of the kids was crying.  She thought about beating the shit out of it, but it was being quiet.  It was at least smart enough to know that being noticed would only make it worse.

The door slammed.  Heavy footsteps pounded up the stairs.  The sound of breathing inside the room stopped.  Even Jen held her breath, and she wasn’t scared of him anymore, not like the little brats were.  He wasn’t that bad really, not like some of the freaks she’d been with.  He was just in it for the money.

The door opened.

“Jen, you’ve got a job.  Uniform.”  He threw a bundle of clothes at her, and she grabbed them as she slid off the bed.

“Whatever.”  She was naked.  She usually slept naked.  It saved time.  She pulled on the short pleated skirt and blouse with a coat of arms sewn on, and looked askance at the knee socks before she pulled them on.  Sleazy.  No bra or underwear was par for the course.  “Braids or pigtails?”

He laughed.  “Surprise me.”

Pigtails were less work.  She slid into her shoes and followed him out the door.  He led her down the street, his arm around her shoulders as if they were on a date.  They took the subway to Manhattan.  Alphabet City, probably yuppie swingers who wanted some new ‘friends.’  Uptown was worse.  There you got the really kinky jerks.  When it was slow she’d just hang out in the Bronx.  That was usually fast and straightforward, no mind games.  Jen could handle mind games.  Sometimes she wanted to try them, fuck someone up with just a look and a word, but she only could risk it with the brats and the yuppie scum and they were boring.  Anyone else was too dangerous.  Even if her life was shit it was better than being a wet spot on the pavement.

The buyer was waiting on the street corner.  He looked twitchy.  Cocaine addict, she could spot it a mile away.  “You’re late.”

He shrugged.  “You got the cash?”

“Don’t you get it?  The party’s already started.”

“All the better, then no one will ask where a dipshit like you picked up such a hot piece of ass.”

This was boring.  Jen glanced around.  There was a woman, dark hair, maybe red?  She couldn’t tell in this light.  She was stalking along the pavement, looking pretty pissed, and snapping into her cell phone.  What the fuck was she doing out here at this time of night?  Unless she was heading to the party.  That would be cool.  Fucking that ass wouldn’t be a chore.

“Hey!”  His hand jerked her shoulder.  She had missed the end of the deal.  “I told you to go with him, you stupid bitch!”

***

“I told you to go with him, you stupid bitch!”

Casey froze as she saw the big man slap the girl across the face.  The sound echoed on the brick.

“Munch,” she said quietly.  “I need help, police help.  B and 21st, okay?”

Then she closed her phone and started running.  The girl had said something and the man shoved her down.

“Hey!”

The group of three all turned their heads at the sound.  The big man laughed.  “Who are you?”

“I’m with the police.”

Absently she noticed the girl’s eyes widen in surprise.  The big man laughed again, but the other guy tensed up.  “Really?  And you and your imaginary police friends are going to tell me how to treat my own daughter?”

“I’m not your daughter,” the girl muttered.

He smacked her absently in the head and then jerked her to her feet, pushing her towards the other guy.  “And my daughter has some business to take care of.  So maybe you and I could take a little walk,” he glanced around, “down that alley.”

He was a talker; that was good.  If she could just think of something to say.  But suddenly she was starting to regret her interference.  She wasn’t a cop.  She wasn’t carrying a gun.  Was she going to threaten them with a legal pad?  The other guy was moving, reaching for something, and smiling in a way she didn’t like.  He looked unstable.

“I don’t know.  Pick’s over, and I think that one’s cuter.”  Casey tensed up.  He had pulled a Swiss Army knife out of his pocket and flicked open the largest blade.

“Don’t be drastic,” the big man stepped in.  “I’m not giving you your money back.  Take the brat and I’ll deal with the nosy bitch.”

“I like to watch.  I’ll hold her for you if you give me second go.”

Casey’s eyes searched, hoping for lights and sirens, but all she saw was the girl.  She looked hard and indifferent, but their eyes met, and Casey thought she saw something else; something like confusion, but it was probably her imagination.

He stepped forward and grabbed for Casey’s throat.  She grabbed his shoulders and nailed him in the balls.  He yelled and lashed out with his fist, the knife an afterthought to the blow, pressing into cheek and lip almost incidentally, not sharp enough to do more than scrape.

She doesn’t feel it.  Everything goes strange, monochrome and jerking, happening.

He throws down his knife and lunges for her, shoving Casey against the rough brick of the wall.  Her head snaps back and connects with his sudden force.  She’s stunned.  Her grabs her shirt collar and jerks it down.  He breathes in with a hiss, her breasts out.  His hand is on her leg, trying to get under her tight skirt.  Casey’s head is foggy.  The pain makes it hard to think.  She makes her knees go limp and slides down the wall.  He straddles her as he fumbles with the top of her skirt, obviously unused to women’s clothes.  She sees the girl again.  She’s watching.  She looks disappointed, like she expected better.  Casey fumbles on the ground behind her.  Her hand closes on a half brick.  The catch of her skirt comes undone.  He leans forward eagerly.  The half brick connects with his head.  She feels the crunch and blood spatter her hand.  He falls limp, his head on her bare stomach.

The big man looks up.  “Hey!”  He takes a step towards her, and the girl is leaping for him, scrabbling at his eyes.

A blue light, sirens, and unmarked car wails around the corner.  Olivia and Elliot jump out, their guns out.  “Hands up!”

The man curled like a lover into her lap isn’t going to put his hands up any time soon.

***


	2. Chapter 2

Olivia put her face in her hands.  Her DA almost raped, one perp in a coma, another linked to prostitution, and a petulant, silent girl sitting in an interview room, who wouldn’t even give her name.  Munch came in, his arm around a hunched form draped in a grey, hospital-issue blanket.  There was only a small band-aid over Casey’s lip and she carried a dripping icepack, but somehow she gave the impression of being a casualty of war.  Then Olivia realized what was making that effect.  One of her heels had snapped and she was walking in uneven shoes.

“I, um, I have some extra tennis shoes in my locker.  They might be big…”

Casey looked at her gratefully, and Olivia felt guilty for not talking to her that afternoon, not even trying to treat her as a person until she was nearly raped.  Maybe she was just incapable of relating to people who weren’t victims.  She hurried out to get the shoes.  She grabbed them and was about to step out of the shadowed hallway when she noticed the interview room door open.  The girl peeked out.  Olivia frowned.  She was sure she had locked that door herself.  She didn’t see Olivia watching her and started off towards the stairs.  Olivia followed silently.  There was noise from the pen.

Munch was joking with Casey, or trying to.  “Taking out a perp, you’re an honorary cop.  My ex-wife nearly did something like that before, only not so hard.  It was lucky though, ‘cause the fellow she thought was a burglar was me!”

Casey laughed weakly.  “I’m going to get a soda, something with caffeine, my head-”

Casey was stepping out the door backwards.  The girl realized she would be caught and started to run just as Casey missed her footing trying to turn on her heel-less shoe and toppled.  Olivia saw her see the girl and reach out to her like a lifeline, and they both tumbled to the floor.

Olivia sauntered over, taking her time now that the fugitive had been apprehended.

“Taking out a perp and now arresting a fleeing witness.  Munch is right, you should join the force.”  She stuck out her hand, pulling Casey into a sitting position and handed her the extra shoes.  She was ready to grab the girl, but she wasn’t trying to move, just watching Casey change her shoes with an odd expression on her face.

“You okay?”  Olivia frowned at the strange girl, who glanced up with a clearly irritated look.  Teenager, had to be.  “Did you pick that lock?  If you’re not going to cooperate we’ll put you in the holding cell.  _And_ you get charged as an adult.”

“What!” Casey exclaimed.  “She’s a vic!”

Olivia frowned at her.  “Not if she doesn’t talk.  If she doesn’t give up names, she’s being charged with prostitution.  Spitzer’s law.”

The girl leaned against the wall, clearly unimpressed.  “You mean you haven’t gotten the others out yet?  I thought you were detectives.”

Those were the first words she had said.  Olivia wished she wasn’t cooperating so they could put her in a holding cell.

“What do you mean, the others?” asked Casey, hesitantly.

“I’m old.  They’re not usually interested in me.”

Olivia’s heart dropped.  “Address.  Now.”

***

The tall lady detective with a bad tan was running around in a panic because the one with the jaw and the stupid haircut was telling her something she didn’t like.  The one with the ears and the black one were grabbing their coats, and the red-haired woman was still sitting on the floor in the hallway next to her, and was smiling oddly.  Jen gave her a sideways glance and crossed her arms over her knees, not caring if her skirt fell and showed her lack of underwear.

“What’s your name?”

“Jen.”  It was odd to talk to her.  She didn’t really believe that this woman existed.  Someone who would charge right into the middle of a bad situation because Jen had been slapped?  That was so storybook it was stupid.  She had seemed like an idiot hero at first, the type that got bopped on the head and cannibalized in the first five minutes of a horror flick, and then she had bashed that guy’s head in with a brick.

“I’m Casey,” she smiled, and stuck out her hand.  Jen took it awkwardly, but didn’t shake it.  She just looked at the small fingers, then turned the hand over and found the scrapes brick left in the skin.

“Casey,” she repeated.  She wondered how long this garbage was going to take.  She hated police offices.  There was some sort of macho police sensibility that meant they never had comfy chairs.  “When can we get out of here?  Dad fucking woke me up for this job, and they always get you up early at group homes.  It sucks.”

Casey smiled and laced their fingers together.  Jen hadn’t realized she was still holding on to her hand.  “Come on, let’s ask.  I’m sure they’ll let us bail if we whine enough.”

Jen wasn’t quite sure she should laugh, but she got up and let Casey pull her into the pen.

“Olivia, Jen’s tired, and I am too.  Can we go home?  Jen can stay with me, since we’re both witnesses.”

Olivia gave them a weird look.  “You got a name?  That’s more than I got in half an hour.”

“I just asked.”

Casey was actually pretty cute.

“So she’s going to cooperate.”

“She already gave you the address, didn’t she?”

“You trust her enough to bring her to your house?”

Casey turned to look at Jen.  She felt appraised.  But it was totally wrong of Casey to be inviting her into her house.  She had never heard of someone being so stupid, much less someone who lived in New York.  

“She’s not that big.  I could take her.”

This time Jen couldn’t stop herself from laughing.

“And she jumped on the second guy.”  Casey smiled at Jen.  “Do you want to stay with me?  That group home thing sounded pretty bad.”

“Do I get a bed?”

Casey shrugged.  “You can have mine.  One night on the couch won’t kill me.”

Olivia gave up.  “Fine, it’s your funeral.  But you bring her back here tomorrow by nine.”

“Noon.”

“Ten.”

“Eleven.”

“Ten thirty.”

“Fine.  And she gets a locater bracelet in case she makes a break for it.”

Casey frowned.  “She’s not a prisoner.”

Olivia produced a document.  “She is until she signs thin.”

Jen plucked it from her hand and read it.  It was a document of cooperation.  “What does this mean I have to do?  I told you where the house was.”

“Will you go on the stand?”

Jen shrugged.  “Sure.”

“Any names?”

“I don’t know many.”

“You’ll share?”

“I don’t have a problem with that.”

“Will you give us your full name?”

“Social-security number too?”

Olivia blinked.  “You have a social security number?”

“I am in the system, you know.”

“The system?”

“Foster care.  He’s my foster dad.”

Olivia groaned.  “Fill this out.  And come back tomorrow.  We have a lot to talk about.”

Jen grinned.  “Looking forward to it.”  _Not._

***

Casey didn’t really have a handle on this Jen girl.  Luckily Elliot drove them to her place, because going on the subway with her, half-dressed in a fetish catholic schoolgirl uniform, would have been interesting to say the least.  Something had struck Casey as interesting about her from the beginning, even when she had just been standing there, looking bored and vaguely watching Casey as she came up the street towards the building where the party was going to be held.  

She hadn’t told Olivia, but she knew the guy who had tried to rape her.  She had given him a blowjob once.  It had only made it easier for her to hit him hard enough to put him in a coma.  She hoped he never woke up, and didn’t really feel guilty about it.

Jen was looking at her funny.  But that made sense; she had been holding the keys and standing in front of her door lost in thought for too long.  She unlocked the door.  But that was what she had noticed about Jen.  She didn’t talk a lot, but she looked at things very hard.  It almost hurt to be under her gaze.  Especially if it were the ‘you are a complete idiot gaze,’ which she had on now.

“The bathroom’s over there.”  Casey pointed.  “You can take a shower.  Towels are in the cupboard.”

Jen gave her an odd smile that was sort of thanks, and sort of ‘you are such a cute idiot.’  It was easy to recognize.  She had gotten that one before.  And then Jen started to take off her clothes.  Casey’s jaw dropped as she bent over to peel off her knee socks, it becoming clear that there was nothing under that skirt.  She pulled the blouse over her head, taking the time to tug the pigtail holders out of her hair, letting it cascade down her bare back.  Casey couldn’t close her mouth or turn away.  Jen unbuttoned the skirt and it fell away, leaving her entirely nude.  She didn’t look back at Casey as she started for the bathroom, but Casey felt like her response was being evaluated even so.  She cursed her body.  How could she be turned on?

It wasn’t fair!  But her body was still zinging with adrenaline from the fight, and she had tried enough rape cases to know that arousal did not mean you wanted it.  Women’s bodies were designed to react to environmental indicators of sex so that they wouldn’t be damaged.  

Thinking about damage made her sick.  Still, she knew herself well enough that she couldn’t deny that she was attracted to Jen.  She had known it from the start, she admitted, and wondered exactly what she had been thinking with when she invited the sixteen-year-old girl to stay in her flat.

The doorbell rang repeatedly.  She hurried over, thinking it might be Olivia needing something, and afraid it was Olivia come to arrest her for her perverted thoughts.  Lusting over a teenage prostitute was bad.

But it was Lucy, in her bulky trench coat that meant she was wearing something inappropriate under it, looking furious.

“I can’t believe you didn’t come!”

Casey’s mouth fell open.

“I had friends that were eager to meet you.  Do you know how humiliated I was when you didn’t come?”

“Eager to fuck me, you mean?”  Casey was offended.  There was something weird about the way she said humiliated.  Was Jen supposed to go to that same party?  “Did you have to give them their money back?”

Lucy looked horrified.  “You have no respect for me, or our relationship!”

“I had to work.”

“Don’t give me that shit?  You always have to work.  But I find you here, relaxing, running a bath and you say you had to work.”

Casey wasn’t going to tell her the truth.  She didn’t trust her.  She probably would get all cuddly and sensitive once she believed her, but it wouldn’t last.  She had been with her long enough to know that.

“Maybe I just didn’t want to go to your crappy party and meet your sicko friends, Luce!”

“Oh!  It finally comes out!  My friends are sick.  You certainly don’t play the puritan card when you’re begging for the whip!”

Casey felt her face heat up, half in humiliation and half in anger.  She had paid for it quadruple every time Lucy had deigned to lash her, in servicing her friends and snide comments.  “That’s my private life.  I chose to share it with someone I thought I trusted. I’m not like your friends.  I don’t want to put out for anyone who puts fifty bucks into the tip jar.  I’m a sex crimes lawyer.  Do you know what that looks like to me?”

“It’s frigid bitches like you who get themselves raped.”

Casey stilled, calm and cold.  She was going to cut her throat.  She had bashed someone’s head in tonight.  She could do it.

The sound of the shower cut off.  Jen stepped out of the bathroom, a towel barely obscuring her torso, her hair wet and shining, and looking far sexier than any sixteen year old had a right to.  Lucy’s mouth hung open, half in lust and half in shock.

“I don’t believe this?  You’re cheating on me?  You?  No fashion, no style, boring, workaholic _lawyer_ is cheating on _me_?”

Casey just looked at Jen.  “That’s the bedroom.  Sleep stuff is in the top drawer.  Pick whatever.”

Jen grinned at her and gave a suggestive flick of the eyebrows, then retreated into the bedroom.

“Fuck you, Casey.  It’s over!”  Lucy spun and marched out the door.  Casey didn’t try to stop her.  She would be surprised if Lucy didn’t call back within the week, impressed by Casey’s brazen infidelity, and want her back.  She thought she might not answer that call.

Casey went into the bedroom.  Jen was barely dressed in an oversize t-shirt and was engaged in drying her hair.

“I’m sorry about that,” said Casey hesitantly.  “Are you still okay staying here?”

Jen looked at her and arched an eyebrow.  “Why wouldn’t I be?  I knew you were a dyke from the moment I saw you.”

Casey bit her lip and thought of the impromptu peep show.  Jen had used sex to get whatever she needed her whole life.  She needed to be above her desires.

“I thought that was why you were there.  Freaky party?”

“Yeah…  Lucy likes that stuff.  You too?”

“I’ve worked a few.  It’s pretty boring.”

Suddenly Casey laughed.  “It really is.  Like working the assembly line.”

“Open, screw, swallow, next.”  Jen grinned.

“My specialty.”

“You ever really work on an assembly line?”

Casey blinked at the challenge in her tone.  “Yeah.  I paid my way through law school working summers in a factory.”

Jen looked surprised.  “Huh. I thought all you fancy lawyers were trust fund girls.”

“Nope.  But my predecessor was.  She might be our lawyer.  I don’t know who it will go to since I’m out.  But Alex Cabot, totally trust fund.”

***

“We need to win this case, for our DA, and we all know who the DA with the best win-loss record in sex crimes was, don’t we?”

Olivia felt her face drain of blood.

Branch and Cragen looked at each other and nodded. “Olivia, you call Alex,” said Cragen.

On the way out of the office Olivia pleaded with Elliot.  “El, I can’t do this.  You know why. I could just fade away, you deal with her.”

Elliot just gave her his serious-cop look.  “This is serious business, Olivia.  You know we can’t waste time on your personal issues.  Alex is the best.  So call her and make up.  You should have done it months ago.  We need a warrant, or Munch and Fin are going to walk into that house and then have to bring the kids back.”

Olivia cursed and reached for her phone.  She shut the door of the interview room and hit the number she had never taken off speed dial.

Ringing, a loud crash, banging, and finally the voice she was waiting for.  “Do you have _any_ idea what time it is?”

Olivia checked her watch.  “Four forty five?”

There was silence.  “Olivia?”

“Alex.”

“To what do I owe the honor of this wake-up call, Detective?”

“I need a warrant.”

There was another long silence.  “I thought when I transferred to the position of Bureau Chief of White Collar Crime I would no longer be tormented by calls about another rape, or prostitution ring, or murdered child at four in the morning.”

“Your reprieve has ended.”  Olivia thought it was funny, but Alex didn’t laugh.

“If you don’t tell me why you’re on the fucking phone, Olivia, I am going to hang up.”

“Casey was nearly raped tonight.”

Olivia heard a quick intake of breath and the other end of the phone fell silent.  

“She saw a man pimping out an underage girl and interfered.”  There was a small hiss that sounded like, “idiot.”  Olivia couldn’t disagree.  It was something she would have done, but she carried a gun.  “The customer was hopped up on crack.  He decided he liked Casey better.  He was on top of her trying to get under her skirt when she hit him in the head with a half-brick and put him in a coma.  The underage girl stopped her pimp from interfering just as we arrived.  She mentioned offhand that her pimp was running a brothel of underaged kids supplied by the foster care system.  Munch and Fin are going to get them out.”

“What a can of worms…”

“No kidding.”

“Will the rapist or his family file an assault charge?”

“I hope not, but I wouldn’t bet on it.  The girl said she’d go on the stand.  She signed to it so we won’t go after her for prostitution.”

“That’s something at least.”

“Casey took her home to sleep.”

Again silence, and then an odd tone in Alex’s voice, “Why would she do that?”

“I have no idea.”

***

 


	3. Chapter 3

Jen lay in the big bed with crumpled sheets that smelt like Casey.  She heard the sound of the shower, and thought about the look on her face as the crack-addict ripped open her shirt and slid his hand possessively up the curve of her breast.  He would have fucked her right there, if he had been able to get her skirt off quicker.  She knew how he would have done it too, laced his arms through her legs, pushing them up and forward.  If he was good he could hold her arms down at the same time, and enter her, slamming into her, grating her back along the pavement with every thrust.  She doubted he would last long, but it would feel like forever.  He would spit in her mouth when he was done, maybe he’d choke her, angry he couldn’t last longer.  It was never really over.

The shower sounded wrong.  It was running steadily into the tub, no difference in the splashing that someone washing made.  Jen slid out of bed and went to the bathroom door.  She tried the handle.  It was open.  She pushed it in and saw Casey.  She was sitting on the toilet seat, still clothed, her knees tucked up to her chest, back quivering.  Jen stepped inside and closed the door silently behind her.

It must have made some click because Casey looked up, and saw her.  Her eyes widened.  The tear-tracks were visible on her face.  Jen stood there awkwardly, not sure why she had come.  She wasn’t a comforter.  She didn’t comfort.  Small children cried around her every day and she only felt angry.  But Casey was her knight.  A lady was supposed to tend her knight’s wounds after battle.  Jen almost smiled at the oddness of her thoughts, but Casey gave a small whimper, looking away, and Jen took two steps forward and dropped to her knees, wrapping her arms around Casey.  She seemed to just melt into her, and Jen felt an odd twist in her stomach, that wasn’t fear or discomfort.  She stared at the wall behind the toilet.  This was not a place she had ever been, and she really wasn’t sure what to do.

The shaking had stopped and Casey was just leaning into her, pressing her face into the crook of her shoulder.  Jen’s fingers trailed down her back.

“You should really get in that shower,” Jen murmured into her hair.  Casey wasn’t focusing on anything; she looked completely shattered.  Jen lifted up the scrubs shirt she had gotten to replace her torn blouse at the hospital and coaxed Casey’s arms over her head.  She looked at Casey’s stomach as it was revealed, smooth and ice white, not much of one for tanning, she guessed.  It was funny, she remembered her thoughts when she had first caught sight of this woman, about giving her a freebie.  She had never thought she’d end up in this position, at least not without her mouth sucking her way up that pale curve.  If things had gone off like they were supposed to she might have ended up like that.  Although, from what that crazy whore was saying, it was more likely that they would have been put in separate rooms doing the same sort of thing.  It was kind of disgusting, she thought as she unhooked Casey’s bra with one hand, that someone would do that sort of thing and think they were in a relationship.  When you whore yourself out for money at least you know who’s the whore and who’s the pimp and where the money’s going.

She unhooked the catch on Casey’s skirt and slid her hand between the woman’s legs.  Casey tensed, her hands coming up to push her away.  Jen grinned at her.  “Get up and get in the shower, loser.”

She got to her feet and stepped away.  The woman might be some kind of idiot, but she was hot, and looked really good when she was telling the whore to get lost.  If she wanted it, Jen would go down on her right now.  It would be a new experience.  She’d never fucked anyone by choice before.

***

Casey stood under the spray of the shower totally confused.  Had that been an advance?  Or had Jen just been comforting her and trying to get her in the shower.  If Olivia had walked in on it, it would have definitely been read as an advance, and probably Casey’s fault.  Was it her fault?  Somehow everything had just hit her all at once, and she had cried without knowing why.  She wasn’t angry anymore.  She just felt sick and dirty.

She still felt dirty, but more for her inability to control her attraction to the girl.  For immediately thinking every action she took had a sexual intent.  For feeling disappointed when she had snapped off her bra with such ease and then not taken her breast in her mouth.  For being turned on by the thought of it.

Jen was sixteen.  She had been coerced into prostitution by her foster father.  She was a victim. And Casey was no better than any of her Johns.

Casey tried to get comfortable on the couch.  She couldn’t hear anything from her bedroom.  Jen was probably asleep.  She should be asleep as well.  It had been a terrible day, _and_ she had to go in to work tomorrow instead of having the weekend off like she had expected.

Jen was beautiful.  Was that why she had risked her life interfering in a deal?  Was she that shallow?  Casey rolled onto her stomach, tangling the blanket uncomfortably around her legs.  This was terrible.  A gorgeous teenager was sleeping in her bed, one who had saved her life, probably.  She wished Jen made sense to her, but she didn’t understand her.  She didn’t know why Jen had comforted her and then put her hand between her legs.  She didn’t know why Jen gave her curious looks and answered her questions while she treated Olivia like a mute object, and then stripped naked in the living room.  Casey’s hand drifted between her legs and she jerked it back.  That was so _not_ okay!Olivia would _slaughter_ her.

Casey unwound herself from the blankets, got up, and started for the kitchen to make herself some warm milk.  She had to pass the bedroom door on the way.  It was partly open.  She stopped and stepped inside.  She was just going to check on her.  That was it.

It looked like Jen was having a nightmare.  She was tossing and turning and making odd sounds like mumbled words.

Casey sat half on the bed and touched her forehead.  She stroked her hair gently and Jen settled down.  She had tossed the blankets off and her shirt had ridden up.  Casey stared at her ass.  It was bare and perfectly curved.  She could almost feel it under her hands, her teeth.  She jerked back her hand.

“Casey?” Jen was awake, looking up at her with squinting eyes, and an unfamiliar vulnerability on her face.  Casey leapt up and hurriedly pulled the blankets up to cover her.  Jen sat up awkwardly, frowning.  She pulled the shirt off over her head.

Casey stared blankly at her exposed breasts, petite but round, with small teenage nipples.

“You can touch me if you want.”

“What?”

“You can touch me.  I want you to.”

“Oh no.  I can’t.  Most definitely not.”  But it was late at night, and she had forgotten why exactly she wasn’t supposed to touch this beautiful girl.  She couldn’t take her eyes away.  Jen reached out, catching Casey’s hand, and pressed it to her breast.  Involuntarily it curved to fit the shape and her thumb brushed against the nipple, which hardened at her touch.  She could hear Jen’s intake of breath.  Both her hands were cupping the girl’s breasts.  They felt… perfect.  She leaned in and kissed the concavity between the girl’s breasts, feeling her heart pounding under her lips.  She glanced up.  Jen’s face was white and drawn.  She looked somewhere between terrified and in pain, and Casey immediately pulled her hands away, falling off the edge of the bed.

Olivia’s avenging form was screaming in her mind as she scrambled to find her feet.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry!”  Jen wouldn’t look at her, but her body blared her panic and unhappiness.  “What was I thinking?  I should never… You’re underage, and-” _a victim_.  She couldn’t say the words.  Jen buried her face in her arms and hid under the pillow.  Casey plunged back into the living room and fell on the couch, knowing she’d get no sleep tonight.

***

That had been incredibly humiliating.  Jen wouldn’t cry.  She didn’t cry.  God!  It was clear that Casey wanted her.  It was _obvious_.  And she had blown it by freaking out.  No one had ever touched her like that before.  No one had kissed her like she mattered.  And she had never wanted to touch anyone like she wanted Casey.

She walked into the kitchen that morning, mask firm.  She had been an idiot last night, but she wasn’t going to do it again.  She wasn’t weak.  They ate breakfast in silence.

“We’d better go in.  I’ll tell Olivia to find a home where you can stay.”

What?  She couldn’t do that.  If she did that all her plans were blown.  “I want to stay here.”

“What?  But… Why?” Casey looked bewildered and unhappy.  What did she think she did?  Molest her?  Didn’t she know how different it was from everything else?

“I like it here.”

“That… doesn’t make sense.”

“I don’t want to go to a home.  You put me back in the system and I’ll run away.  The system’s never given me anything but crap.”

Casey rested her chin in her hand.  “You’re going to have to go back in eventually.”

Jen shook her head.  “I’m done with that.”

“Then what are you going to do?  You’re sixteen.”

“I can whore for myself.  I know how it’s done, and I’ll keep the money.  It’s something I’m good at.”

“Yeah, too good,” Casey mumbled the words, but Jen heard them clear as day.  She was furious.  Was that what she thought Jen was doing?  To get good treatment or something like that?  That was crap.  “We’ll talk about it with Olivia when we go in.”

Jen dragged her feet, finding some of Casey’s clothes that would fit.  A nice pair of boots had been thrown in the back that were big enough for her.  Casey was obviously irritated, and that made Jen annoyed.  What right did she have to judge?

Olivia wasn’t at her desk.  Instead a blonde woman in black rectangular glasses was sitting behind it, going over a file.  She looked up and lowered her glasses to focus on Casey.

“I sent her home for a nap.  She was still here when I got in this morning, trying to get the last of the children taken care of.”

They had gotten the brats.  Jen’s chest hurt a little.  She ignored it.

“So this is Jen?”  The woman gave her a long appraising look, then looked to Casey with a raised eyebrow.  Casey glanced over at her and gulped.  Jen frowned.  What were they looking at?

“I promise I won’t let her dress like that for court.”

Jen flinched.  She thought she had put together something good.  But they were looking at her like she was a slut again.  She was fucking sick of this.  She glared at the blonde.  This was probably the trust fund bitch Casey had mentioned last night.  She was completely ready to make her life hell.

***

Alex noticed the harsh glare she was getting from the kid and met it, not backing down.  If she hadn’t been with Casey she probably wouldn’t have realized that this was the girl picked up for prostitution.  She would have assumed it was someone’s daughter who needed a lecture on appropriate workplace attire.  Jen didn’t have the glazed emaciated look of the other underage prostitutes Alex had run into.  She supposed it was because her pimp didn’t use drugs as a mode of control.  He had used fear instead.

Her interview with the man had been enlightening.  He had been using the foster system as a feeder for over twenty years.  He made sure the kids were fed and went to school and made up the shortfalls in the state income by letting a few of his friends and associates abuse the kids on a regular basis.  He blamed being caught on Jen.  She had been skinny and delicate looking when the state was looking for a place, and she was very pretty with hollow cheeks and dark eyes and hair, so he had accepted her, not realizing that she was already thirteen, and once she was properly fed she would develop quickly, grow three inches, and become completely uninteresting to his usual customers.  He had had to branch out.  But she had earned her keep so he hadn’t bothered trading her in.

Alex was going to enjoy sending him to prison.  At first Cragen and Branch had considered giving this part of the case to Casey, and only having Alex deal with the attempted rape/assault in self defense aspect, but when they found out that Casey had taken the teenage prostitute home, they decided it would be better to give Casey some time off to allow her to regain her sanity.

“Well, since you’re here I might as well interview you.  I read your statement, Casey, but I have some questions.  And you haven’t given a statement yet.”  She frowned at Jen, who just glared back.

“So I guess that means it’s me first?” asked Casey hesitantly.  Alex nodded.

“Why don’t you wait here for Olivia?”

Casey glanced from Alex to Jen and then back at Olivia’s desk.  “If you mess anything up, she’ll kill me.  But you might be able to go on the Internet if you don’t, um, interfere in the process of justice.”

Alex wondered for a moment why Casey was so concerned about whether the girl would be bored.  She looked at Jen, who remained unresponsive.  There was something going on that she didn’t completely understand.  But it probably wasn’t relevant to the case.  She guided Casey into an interview room and took out her notepad.

Casey sighed.  “I haven’t been on this end of the notepad since my last assault charge.”

Alex was surprised.  “You’ve assaulted someone before?”

Now Casey looked confused.  “No.  I was assaulted.”  Then she looked scared.  “Am I being charged for assault?”

“We don’t know yet.  He hasn’t woken up and the hospital has only just got in touch with his family.”

“Oh god.  I hope he doesn’t.  I don’t think he recognized me, but…”

“Wait!”  Alex needed this conversation to slow down.  “You knew him?”

Casey made an awkward face.  “In the biblical sense.”

Alex paused and set down her pencil.  “I’m sorry if this is really impertinent, but I thought you were, um, one of the girls…”

Casey gave her an odd look, and Alex cursed internally.  She shouldn’t have even brought it up, or at least she should just said gay.  Not being able to say it was as good as admitting it.

“Oh, I am.”  Then she seemed to sag.  “I guess I should start at the beginning.  My witness statement didn’t give a lot of context.”

“I was going to ask what you were doing there in the first place.”

“Yeah.”  Casey looked embarrassed and pushed her curled hands together on the table.  “I was going to a party.  My girlfriend… ex-girlfriend, as of last night, she likes to go to these parties.”

“What kind of parties?”

Casey glanced up and flashed an awkward smile.  “Sex parties.”

Alex tried to maintain her mask of indifferences but felt her eyebrows jump and gave it up.  “Sex parties.”  She took off her glasses and pinched the bridge of her nose.  “I don’t want to know.  Do I want to know?”  She had so many questions and she couldn’t figure out which one to say first.  She pursed her lips.  “Have you been tested?”

Casey stiffened and crossed her arms.  “Now _that_ is none of your business.”

“And if the defense attorney brings it up?”

“Doctor-Patient Confidentiality.”

“So you have been tested.”

Casey scowled.  “I hate you.  I’m clean, if that’s what you wanted to know.  Everyone’s very ‘safe’ at these parties.  Vanilla too.  They’re actually incredibly boring.”

That was more information than Alex had been expecting.  She felt guilty for prying.  It really wasn’t any of her business.  She just had felt oddly responsible for Casey ever since her leaving pushed the kid into her SVU spot.  She had actually fought Branch on the appointment.  She was too young and too immature, she shouldn’t have to deal with all of the horror right off the bat.  The fact that she had done as well as she had was surprising and admirable.  But Alex still thought of her as a kind of little sister, and this was like finding out that your innocent little sister was… well, going to sex parties.  She had crossed the line.  She knew it.

“I- I’m… sorry.  I shouldn’t have asked.  But, it seems you were on your way to one of these parties…”

“Everyone was, actually.  Except for Jen’s foster father.  I think the guy, um, the one I hit was ‘renting’ a girlfriend for the night.  You have to come in couples to the parties.  It’s like bringing a party favor.  So Lucy was whining at me all day to come.  I didn’t want to, but-“

“You didn’t-“ Alex interrupted and then closed her mouth.  “Never mind.  Keep going.”

“I didn’t what?”

“Please, ignore my rudeness.”  Alex was not going to say that she had immediately wanted to know if the reason Casey took Jen home was to sleep with her.  Just because Casey did this sort of thing didn’t mean she would cross that line with a minor.

 “I didn’t _what_?”

Alex gulped.  “I was just wondering why you took Jen home with you.  I don’t mean to insinuate…”

Casey glanced away.  Alex’s stomach twisted.

“You didn’t sleep with her, did you?”

“What!  No!”  Casey stood up, shoving the chair out behind her.

“I didn’t think so.  I’m glad I’m correct.”

Casey sank back down.  “Just, just don’t interrupt anymore.  I was going that party, and I had to find a garage because there was no parking.  So I was walking, and I saw them.  I saw him hit her, and I couldn’t stop myself from intervening.  It wasn’t until the other man started reaching for the knife that I recognized him.  He had been at another party, and I guess he was one of Lucy’s friends, because I had sucked him off.”

Alex stared.  Casey gave her a challenging look, but she didn’t say anything.

“I didn’t tell you that bit.  As a party favor I get to kneel, with my wrists handcuffed behind my back and suck and fuck anything that gets put in front of my face.”

Casey snarled a little and Alex thought about kissing her.

“And you just submit to that?  Even if you like that sort of thing, you don’t have any problem with servicing these men?”

“She didn’t make me do men in the beginning.”  Casey sighed, leaning over the table.  “Can I not get into our private life?  She just, just made me feel obligated to do her a favor, and the favor was to add a guy, just one, to the girls she usually had me do.  I said fine and got it over with as fast as I could.  Apparently the guy had never come that fast before, and he raved about me to all of his friends.  Lucy’s not very good at saying no.”

“That’s…strange.”

“What?”

Alex flushed.  “That you’re, um, so skillful…”

Casey snorted.  “I should be.”

“Why?”

Casey grinned.  “Seriously.  None of your business.”

Alex looked down at her notes.  She had already found out a lot more than was technically her business.  “I did have some questions that _were_ relevant to the case…”

“Shoot.”

***


	4. Chapter 4

Olivia felt like crap.  She had let Alex bully her into going home to sleep, but three hours of sleep was worse than none.  Then she saw Jen at her computer and was suddenly wide awake.

“What are you doing?”

Jen gave her a look, which was completely derisive.  Olivia prickled and was irritated with herself for her inability to remain calm around this girl.  She was supposed to be good with victims, but _nothing_ about this girl read as a victim.  She was even more arrogant and cocky than Elliot’s kids.

“I’m checking my email.”

Olivia stared blankly at her.  “Your email?”  Was she on child porn lists?  Did she contact her patrons that way?

“Yeah.  My inbox is jammed with these irritating people on one of my mailing list having an argument about Harry Potter.  Oh, and there’s an SAT practice test being offered at my school on Saturday.”

Olivia went behind her and looked over her shoulder.  There was one subject that mentioned penis enlargement, but that was just spam.  Most of the rest were Re: Re: Re: Remus and Tonks- No Way!

“Are you a junior?”

“Sophomore.”  Jen frowned.  “I missed a year changing homes.”

It was strange that it was harder to see someone as a normal kid who just happened to be a prostitute than it was to see a victim and nothing else.  For all her vaunted empathy, Olivia felt that she had forgotten what real people were like.

“When did you change homes?”

Jen looked up at her, frowning.  “Is this my interview?  Shouldn’t you have a tape deck or something?”

Olivia was put on the defensive.  “Can’t I just ask?”

“Sorry, but everything you say sounds like ‘cop,’ or maybe ‘dad.’  Not that I know how that sounds.”

“Did you ever know your father?”

“Didn’t you read my file?”  Jen turned back to the computer and started deleting emails.  “You should know that one.”

Olivia frowned.  She had read so many kids’ files that evening that they started to blur together.  She really wasn’t doing too well at the connect with victims thing today.  She grabbed Jen’s file and flipped it open.  Then she remembered.  “Oh, yeah.”

“Left at fire station as a newborn?”

Olivia frowned.  “How do you know it?”

“Sometimes social workers forget that not all foster kids are brain dead.  Some of us can _read_.”

“You’ve been with three families.”

“Families could be pushing it.”

“When was your first sexual encounter?”

“I was five.  My dad liked me to play with his dick.”

Olivia dropped her pencil and Jen burst out laughing.

“God, you’re easy!”

Olivia had never wanted to smack a victim before as much as she wanted to smack Jen right now.  “So it’s not true?”

Jen shrugged.  “I dunno.  Freud says we repress memories like that, but my social worker said that we can also make them up.”

“How do you know about Freud?”

Jen gave her another look.  “Do we recall the ‘reading’ comment?”

“Why’d you leave your first foster family?”

“My foster dad went to jail for killing his wife.”

Olivia kept a firm hold on her pen this time.  “Is _that_ true?”

“It’s in the file, isn’t it?”

Olivia paged through the stack that was thicker than most teenager’s files she had seen.  She found the deposition.  “Oh.”

Jen smiled at the computer screen.  It wasn’t a nice smile.  “That was the first time I was looked after by the cops.  They locked me in an interview room for six hours and forgot that little kids need to go to the bathroom.”  Olivia felt sick.  “It was the second time that one of them had his way with me in the crib.”  She looked back at Olivia.  “That’s the first sexual experience that I can remember.”

“How old were you?”

“Thirteen, and ninety-three pounds.  That cop must have liked skeletons.”

“Do you remember his name?”

Jen snorted.  “No.  And I mean that.  It’s not just because he said he’d fuck me up if I told anyone.”

“Why were you with the police then?”

“My second foster family had just been busted for running a knock-off beanie-baby factory.”  She grinned at Olivia.  “I can still knock out a bear in an hour flat.”

“And that was when you moved to your current family.”

“Yeah.  Three years ago.”  Her shoulders dropped slightly and she looked away, towards the door.  Casey was standing there looking tortured.  Olivia wondered how long she’d been listening.  “I’ve been tricking for three years, if that’s something you wanted to know.”

“Thank you.”

Olivia took Jen into an interview room and took down her statement perfunctorily.  She just said she didn’t know why Casey had interfered, but when she brained that guy she saw her dad reaching for the piece he carried, though rarely drew, and couldn’t let him hurt someone that spunky, even if she was a blithering idiot.

Olivia had laughed at that, and Jen smiled at her for the first time.  “I really like staying with Casey,” she said.

“Yeah?”

Jen frowned.  “You’re not going to make a comment about my outfit?”

Olivia looked blank.  She thought the girl looked fine, clean and healthy for an abused child prostitute.  “What’s wrong with your outfit?”

Alex took over afterwards, and Olivia left the interview room.  Casey was leaning against the wall outside the door to the viewing area.

“She said she liked staying with me?”

“Yes.”

Casey sighed.

“What was she like last night?  Did she open up at all?”

There was a brief moment of panic on Casey’s face.  Then she just cringed and shrugged.  “I don’t think she likes to let people in.  And she had to comfort me more than the reverse anyways.”

“I just can’t think of putting her back into the system.  She seems so normal and surprisingly smart and competent after having three families do their utmost to screw her up.  It’s like a miracle.  I can’t ask her to survive another situation like that.”

“I was considering emancipation…”

Olivia looked at her sharply.  “And then what?  Prostitution?  She has _no_ support network.  She was abandoned at a fire station as an infant, and there were no hits on her DNA, which is actually worse than knowing that one of her parents is locked up on a drug charge.  It makes me think it was some terrified upper-middle class college student who got knocked up and couldn’t cope with…”

“With their beautiful baby girl,” finished Casey softly.

“She is beautiful.”  Olivia was starting to figure out why Casey was so invested in this girl, but it was still a bit mystifying.  “But she has no more chances than anyone.  And she just _exudes_ sexual availability.  It’s awful.”

“Mmh.”  Casey nodded.

“I’m glad you’re taking care of her.  It would be hard to send her to a home.”

She walked away, not noticing the awkward expression on Casey’s face.

***

Olivia was okay, but Alex was a totally ice cold bitch.  Jen could see it in the way that she looked at her like she was absolutely worthless.  Even when she was answering a direct question she didn’t even appear to be interested.

“I want you to tell me what happened from your point of view, starting as far back as seems relevant.”

“I was born.”

“And then?”

If that was a joke, Alex was really dry.  It was almost funny too.

“And then my life turned to shit.”

“I _did_ read your file.”

This time Jen laughed involuntarily.  “Ok, last night dad called me and told me to get dressed and we took the subway to Manhattan.   The sleazeball was whining that we were late and he wouldn’t get to pick the hottest girl to fuck.  That was boring, so I was looking around and I saw this chick coming down the street.  I was wondering what she was doing in this part of town when dad slapped me because I was zoning out.  Then that idiot interfered-”

“Don’t call her that.”

Jen looked at Alex, unsure if her bland crisp tone had any feeling behind it.  “Sleazeball called her ‘the nosy bitch,’ is that better?”

“Casey risked her life to get you out of that situation.  Maybe you think she should have minded her own business and left you there, but she didn’t.  And whether or not it was a good idea you deserve her respect for changing your life.”

Jen nearly jumped at the vehemence in her voice, but at the end she scowled.  Casey just wanted to put her in another home anyways.  “It’s not like it’s going to get better.”

“You had better make sure that it does.”

Jen blinked.  How was this up to her?

“Do you know how lucky you are?”  Alex pushed a sheet of paper across the table.  “By some miracle you’re clean and healthy, not dying of an addiction or an untreatable disease.  Do you know what the stats are for teenage prostitutes?”

Jen was silent.

“And I am not going to let you treat that like it’s nothing, treat Casey like she’s nothing when she gave you another chance.  I’m not going to let you throw all your good fortune away.”

“’Good fortune?’  Are you kidding me?”

“I was a sex crimes lawyer for six years.  Every day I saw people who had been raped, abused, murdered.  People who didn’t know their own names and weren’t in control of their own bodies.  You’re alive, and healthy, and here you’re _safe_.  Don’t depreciate that.”

Jen felt her eyes prickle and grit her teeth, not letting herself cry.  She couldn’t lose control.  She hadn’t cried in so long, but she was so angry.  “Don’t you understand!  I want to be safe!  I want to stay safe.  To have a real life, and stop waiting.  _Finally_ , stop waiting!  But you’re just going to throw me away again, and I’m trying so hard to be someone worthy of her, worthy of keeping, and all you do is look at me and see a whore!”

Alex looked stunned.  “Worthy?”

“My dad was reaching for his gun.  He was going to kill her, and I thought about letting him.  I could have let him, just like I was going to let Sleazeball rape her.  I would have watched.  She is an idiot.  She’s an idiot for thinking someone like me was worth saving at all.”

“You didn’t let him.”

“I couldn’t have held him for long.”

“Do you think he would have killed you as well?”

Jen shrugged.  “It didn’t really matter to me.”

“When you’re in court I’ll ask you why you jumped on him.  Say just what you said, but stop before you talk about the rape.”

Jen bit her lip.  “This morning… Casey said she wouldn’t let me wear this to court.  What’s wrong with it?”

“You look too confident.  Either they won’t believe you were a prostitute, or they won’t be able to sympathize with someone who is so clearly more attractive than them.”

“What?”

“Knee length skirts and avoid sexy boots for court.  Casey wears them sometimes, but Casey has never been able to put together an outfit, so they pity her.  She makes it work.”

“Casey’s very attractive.”

“I know,” said Alex.  She gave Jen a hint of a smile.  “That doesn’t refute what I said before.”

***

Olivia was at her desk when Alex came in from the interview room.  Jen and Casey had left an hour before, their body language still tentative, and their mouths silent.  Alex looked down at the woman who used to be her friend, which, at this time, was more meaningful than that they had ever been lovers, and thought that there was no one else she could talk to about this, no one else in the world.

“I had a strange moment in my interview with Jen today.”

Olivia looked up with an easy smile.  “You too?  She’s a real brat.  She had a really good time sending me up until I didn’t even believe her when the same thing was written in her file.”

Alex laughed breathily.  “I can see that.  But…”  She sighed and thought for a moment.  “She was being a brat to me too.  And I got angry with her.  I told her off for being rude about Casey, and for not being properly grateful.”

Olivia snorted.  “I would have loved to see that.  I’ve seen Stabler do it often enough, but you being parental- now that’s a rare bird.”

“Parental?” Alex bit the end of her glasses, then realized what she was doing, and quickly folded them and put them away.  “I didn’t think of it as parental.  I made her cry.”

Olivia’s jaw dropped.

“Not all the way, but she definitely teared up and yelled back at me.  She really responded to what I had said.  It made me feel so powerful and so afraid at the same time.”

“Afraid?  Why?”

“Because…  Because of the power.  I had the power to make her listen, to make her believe that what I told her was right.”

“Don’t you do that every day in court?”

“No.  I convince them to listen to me; I make them trust me; I lead them with logic.  But with Jen I just told her ‘this is wrong, and this is right,’ and she said, well, not aloud, ‘yes, you’re right.  This is why I said it.  This is what I’m afraid of.’  Maybe it was parental.  That’s why it felt so strange.  I felt that I could tell her something that could change her life.”

Olivia snorted and Alex turned on her furiously.  Olivia waved her hands in defense.  “No!  No!  Not you.  My own thought.  I just thought that it was obvious Jen’s never had any real parental figures, because if she had she would have never let you know that you got to her.  That’s what Elliot would say.”

Alex let herself laugh.  “You’re probably right.  It was a strange feeling though.”

“I can imagine.”

“She’s so scared of being sent back into the system.”

“She has a right to be.  What looks like her _best_ foster father murdered his wife and possibly molested her as a child.  If she gets another round of bad luck she could end up dead.  It would be such a waste.”

Suddenly Olivia seemed to sink and Alex looked at her questioningly.  “What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing.  I just remembered…”

“Tell me.”

“Did you hear about Maria?  Casey was already here, but…”

“Maria?  The girl kidnapped for child pornography that you saved from being buried alive?”

“How did you…”

“Your exploits are often grist for the rumor mill in Hogan place.”

“Well, I bet the rumor mill didn’t get that I was considering adopting her.”

Alex frowned.  “Would they let you?  Single, overworked in a dangerous profession-”

“I don’t know.  It never got that far.  I talked myself out of it.  But I got an email this week…”  She paused.  “Yesterday.  God, I can’t believe it was just yesterday, that she died of an infection picked up in a group home.”

“Oh god.”  Alex suddenly felt pale and cold.  Olivia’s resigned smile almost made her cry.

“It just made me wonder whether I’m really doing enough.”

“You save children every day.”

“And then I send them into a craps game.  I know I can’t protect them all from the things the could happen, but it seems that if I took just one, doing my best to make sure that just one kid could make it out of childhood alive and with the skills to cope with some of the normal problems that life throws at you.  It couldn’t replace what I do, but maybe it would make it more worth while.”

“What about Jen?”

“Huh?”  Olivia looked blank.

“Would you consider taking her?  She’s old enough that you wouldn’t even have to adopt her, just give her a home until she can take care of herself.”

“I couldn’t.  She- I…  I wouldn’t be there enough.  You know how I work.  And she- she seems mature, but she’s really not.  She needs real parents.”

“Well it can’t be Casey then.”

“God no!”  Olivia laughed.  “I really can’t see how they’re managing to look after each other now.  I don’t even think Casey sees her as younger.  And Jen buddied up with her as if they were peers.  She would tell Casey anything, but I was the big bad authority who needed to be mocked and undermined.”

“I hope Casey isn’t getting in over her head, trying to look after that girl.”

***

Casey was completely and unutterably in over her head.  They picked up Thai food on the way.  While waiting Jen asked her, “Don’t you cook?”

That hit her at one of her soft points.  She did cook, but she seriously wouldn’t force her cooking on anyone else.  Getting take-out was a favor, but obviously one not appreciated.  “No,” she replied sourly.

Jen scowled and turned away, playing Beethoven’s fifth on the soda fountain until someone came to yell at them.  Casey rolled her eyes and they were silent while the food came.

She watched Jen’s form, how the heeled boots made her stand with an easy power, how all the men in the room looked at her, how it was clear that they all wanted her.  It was just as clear that she didn’t care.

It was too easy to fight with her, and every time they fought Casey felt more and more useless and inferior.  It wasn’t a new feeling.  Casey thought back to her interview with Alex.  Alex knew more about her now than any of her colleagues, and she had been horrified.  But Casey hadn’t tried to explain why she did those things.  She had made excuses.  She was pressured into it; it was an obligation.  She wondered what Alex would have said if she had explained that she went to sex parties, sucked men’s cocks, and let them fuck her because she felt like a phoney in front of the victims that she saw every day.  She had never been raped, molested, or prostituted.  She didn’t know what it felt like, and when she stood there, trying to convince a wounded girl that it was worth prosecuting her asshole boyfriend who didn’t understand the word no, she felt like a liar.  At what cost, justice?

When it had finally happened, part of her didn’t want to resist.  She was ashamed of that, and it was that shame, triggered by Jen’s look of disappointment and disdain that made her fight back.  Jen would never understand how she felt.  But she wondered if Alex would.

When they got home Jen kicked her boots off in the front room, and Casey nearly dropped her bag at the sight of the long expanse of leg.  “God, put some clothes on, why don't you.”

Jen was still holding her second boot and suddenly she threw it to the ground with a loud thump.  “I hate you,” she said, her voice like iron and ice.  Casey stepped back, instantly regretting what she had said.  “You treat me like a whore and then complain when I act like one.  You’re the whore.  You go to those slut parties and don’t even get paid!  You look at me like you want me and then turn away in disgust.”

Casey’s shoulders dropped.  It was all true, but now, called on it, she didn’t know what she could say.

“I thought you were different.”  She saw Jen gulp, then turn and kick the edge of the couch with her bare feet.  “You were supposed to be the one who saw me as a person.  I’ve never had sex with anyone because I wanted to.  But I thought you were different.  That’s why I let you touch me.  And it was different.  It wasn’t like anything…”

Jen looked like she was about to cry.  Casey was stunned.  What was different?  She was just as vile, just as much of a user as every man who had hurt her.  “Do you really believe that?  I can never tell if you’re telling the truth.”

Jen looked down.  “I always tell the truth, even if it doesn’t sound like it.”

Casey sank to the couch.  She didn’t think she could handle this.  “I don’t understand.  Why am I different?  I am attracted to you.  But I promise I won’t touch you again.  I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.  I made you touch me, and it was still… it was the only time I ever felt… worth something.”  Jen shook her head.  “Isn’t that stupid?  It was the only time I wasn’t getting paid and the first time I didn’t feel worthless.”

Casey wanted to hold her so badly.  The tears cusping on the edge of her eyes made her need to give her comfort.  She didn’t resist.  Wrapping her arms around the girl’s shoulders she pulled her into her chest.

Jen looked up.

Casey leaned in.

Jen was a terrible kisser, too forceful, too fast.  Casey cupped her jaw, holding it firmly, closing it.  She kissed her, long and slow.  It was almost chaste and somehow lazy, just being there, knowing that this was happening.  She nipped at Jen’s lower lip and felt the girl grow limp in her arms.  Then suddenly, she was gone.

Casey opened her eyes.

Jen was on her knees in front of her.  Her eyes were wet.  She ducked her head, cowering in embarrassment.

Casey smiled.  It felt odd, but it was nice to see hard evidence that Jen really was younger than her, less experienced and talented than her at _something_.  And she really given Jen something, this was hers, Jen’s first real kiss.

Casey pulled Jen back onto the couch and into her arms.  Jen wouldn’t look at her, still embarrassed.  She rubbed her head.  “You’re really special, you know that?”

Jen looked up at her, her eyes still soft, tear tracks tracing the contour of her nose.  “No I’m not.  I’m nobody.”

***

It was easier after that.  Jen felt shamed and humiliated that she had let herself cry, that she had crumpled out of the kiss because it was too much.  But the hope had hit her like a blow to the stomach and she couldn’t deal with it anymore.  It wasn’t supposed to be like this.  Casey was supposed to want her, and she would give it to her, and then she wouldn’t _owe_ Casey so much.  And then maybe Casey wouldn’t stop helping her, wouldn’t give up on someone worthless like her.

Alex had brought it home to her how much she owed Casey.  If her only currency was her body she would use that, unhesitatingly.

But then Casey had kissed her, had turned it into something she couldn’t identify.  She had meant it as an invitation to sex.  She had tried to give that impression.  But Casey hadn’t wanted that, and she had done something that made Jen forget all her plans and tactics.  Jen had forgotten how to breathe, how to stand, and how not to cry.

It was frustrating.  It was even more frustrating that when Casey fell asleep on the sofa while they were watching TV, Jen didn’t want to move.  She made herself move anyway and got up, disinterestedly pulling a duvet over her and going to bed.  She lay awake for a long time, her fingers brushing over her lips, wishing the kiss was a thought she could masturbate to, because she really needed release, but knowing it was the wrong pleasure.  The release she needed was from all this hope that was stirring up inside of her.  Hope was setting yourself up to be hurt.  Pessimism was much easier to live with.

***

 


	5. Chapter 5

Casey and Olivia were in the viewing chamber watching Jen talk to Alex.  She was talking too, gesturing with her hands, and telling jokes.  Alex had pushed her glasses up onto the top of her head and was laughing, the legal pad in front of her forgotten for the time being.

“She doesn’t think she’s special.”

For a moment Olivia was confused about whether Casey was talking about Jen or Alex.  She wondered if that was true for Alex, and then realized that there was no way Casey could know something like that, and the remark had to be about Jen.  _Is she?_ were the first words Olivia thought to say, but she held her tongue.

“What do you mean?”

“She said it, ‘I’m nothing.’  But look at her!  She’s making Alex laugh, during an _interview_.  Alex doesn’t laugh.”

 _Yes she does_.  Olivia thought irritably, but then thought about it.  She hadn’t seen Alex much in the last year, but from what she had seen and heard, she didn’t think Alex was doing a lot of laughing.

“I see.”

“What are we going to do with her?  Put up flyers?  One well-adjusted, ex-prostitute teenager, free to good home.”

Olivia chuckled slightly.  The screening process for pet owners seemed to be better than the one for potential foster parents.

“She deserves a future.”

Casey sounded incredibly vehement and Olivia looked at her oddly.  How invested _was_ she in this girl?

“Have you thought about taking her?”

Casey froze and then closed her eyes, seeing something on the inside of her head.  Olivia wondered what excuses she’d come up with.  She had dibs on the single and too busy ones.  “I wish I could.”

Olivia frowned, not liking that tone of voice.  It sounded like she had given this some thought and it was something she actually did want to do.  It would never work.  Olivia knew that already.  Jen would walk all over her.

“But I would be a hypocrite, if I tried.”

“Why?”

Casey wouldn’t meet her eyes and stared at the linoleum instead.  “I’m attracted to her.  I can’t honestly say that adopting her would lead to anything but another abusive situation.”

“Casey…  You’re not a rapist.  You’re not like them.”

“Are we that different in our hearts?”

“It's your _actions_ that tell a criminal from a citizen!”  

Casey looked away, and somehow Olivia knew.  She just knew it.  “Casey…  What happened?”

“I kissed her,” she murmured.  “I kissed her yesterday.  I don’t know how it happened, I just wanted to comfort her.”

“That is _not_ okay!”

“I know that!  She’s a minor!  And a victim!  And the last thing I want to do is hurt her more than she’s been hurt already!”

“It stops now.  You do not play these games or walk these lines!  She’s staying with me tonight.”  

“Wait!”

Olivia shook her head.  “Even if she responded, at its purest it's misguided hero worship.”

“Oh look who’s talking!” Casey spat.  “What victim hasn't fallen in love with you?”

***

Alex saw Jen wandering the halls of Hogan Place when she was getting ready to go home.  It was already past ten and she wondered why Casey hadn’t taken her home yet.  She stopped in at Casey’s office and peeked in.

Casey flopped on the desk, looking miserable, her head resting on her arms.

“What are you still doing here?”

Casey looked up slowly.  “Olivia’s taking Jen tonight, but she got called out.”

Alex frowned.  “Why is she taking Jen?”  Olivia talked well about wanting to take in a kid, but honestly, Alex doubted that she had the ability.  Olivia wasn’t very good at paying attention to the people around her.  She preferred rushing off after bad guys and idealized victims.

Casey looked uncomfortable and mumbled something that sounded like, “molester-dar.”

“What?”

“It’s because Novak can’t keep her mouth shut.”

Alex turned.  Jen was standing behind her, looking irritated.  “About what?”

Jen shrugged.  “I was trying to repay some of my debts.  It’s not like we even did anything.”

Alex looked at Casey, raising her eyebrows interrogatively.

Casey’s eyes slid away.  “I kissed her.”

“It’s not fucking illegal!”

Alex looked sharply at Jen.  “Language?”

“Well is it?  Anyways, I kissed her first.”

“Technically it is possible to interpret the definition of Sexual Contact to include kissing, but in practice it’s a hard case to win.  Especially if it’s consensual.”

Jen glowered at the floor.  “Then what’s her problem?”

Alex sighed.  “Her problem is that she has difficulties seeing greys.”  She knew that problem well.  It was the source of nearly all of their fights, the few other causes being generally linked to the legal code failing to live up to Olivia’s moral code.  Defense lawyers played on the greys.  They used doubt and conflict to find weak spots, and exploited them.  Sometimes Alex thought that it would be easier to be a defense lawyer than try and fight against that sort of attack.

Jen seemed to slump.  “Well, I have trouble seeing whites.  Some pair, eh?’

Alex looked at the other women, noting that they looked exhausted, and always turned away from each other.  There was far too much tension around them.  She checked her watch.

“Why don’t we adjourn for the night and go to my apartment for tonight?  If Olivia is called out this late she rarely makes it home before three.”

Jen’s lips quirked.  “Knowledge from personal experience?”

“I suppose being awakened by icy feet at four in the morning counts as personal experience,” Alex remarked dryly.

Casey’s jaw dropped.

Jen frowned.  “Are you guys together?  ‘Cause I didn’t get that vibe.”

“No.  It was… a long time ago.”

“Is that why you left SVU?”

Alex looked at Casey, wondering.  “Would you be angry if I said that was one of the reasons?”

Casey shook her head.  “A promotion’s a promotion, even if I didn’t deserve it.”

Alex frowned.  That wasn’t what she had meant.  Being thrown into the pit of horrors that was SVU couldn’t be enjoyable for anyone.  But Casey was more resilient than she seemed.

“You did deserve it.  Though whether it was a punishment or an accolade I was never able to ascertain.”

Casey snorted.

They arrived at Alex’s apartment with pizza and videos in less than an hour.  Alex called Olivia’s cell phone, and felt an uncomfortably familiar feeling of tension when she didn't pick it up.  But it really wasn’t her business anymore whether Olivia was alive or dead.

“Olivia.  I have taken charge of the protective custody of our star witness for the night.  If I were evaluating you for your ability to take care of a child, abandoning your ward in a government building for an inestimable amount of time would not be a mark in your favor.  If you are still so dramatically opposed to Casey’s taking care of her tomorrow, you may regain custody for a trial period.”

When the pizza had been consumed, Jen perused the video options, and Casey retreated into the kitchen purportedly to assist with the dishes.  She did not actually make an effort to pretend further, instead stood awkwardly, watching Alex.

“Maybe I should go?”

“Why?”

Casey scratched the back of her head.  “I’m not supposed to be here.  Olivia…”

“I am sure Olivia will trust that I am not going to put you in the same bed and close the door.”

Casey flushed, and Alex suppressed a grin.

“Honestly Casey.  I don’t blame you.  She’s a beautiful girl, who is far too comfortable using her sexuality to get what she wants than a sixteen year old ought to be.  It’s only when she says things like ‘repay my debt’ that I worry.”

Casey sighed.  “It wasn’t like that.  Not really.  We had a fight.  I was frustrated because I wanted her and was jealous of her at the same time.  And she was angry because she thought I was treating her like a whore.  She told me some things about myself that were too true, and then she told me some things about herself that were…”  Casey trailed off.  Alex waited.  “That made me feel guilty, and stupid for being jealous, and sad… for what she had been through.  I wasn’t planning on kissing her.  I just wanted to make it better.”

“Make what better?”

Casey looked up, but away, into the distance.  “She’s never had consensual sex.”

“She can’t have consensual sex in the state of New York until she’s seventeen.  Especially not with an adult.”

“It just doesn’t seem fair.”

“What doesn’t?”  Alex asked sharply.

“That she’s been hurt so many times, with _nothing_ else.”

“It isn’t fair.  But _you_ can’t fix it.”

Casey glared at her.  “I know that.  I know that if I do anything it will just be one more adult taking advantage.  I told Olivia that I knew that, and she still…”

“She didn’t trust you.  That must have hurt.”

“Why should she trust me?  I can’t even trust myself.”

***

It looked like Jen had forgiven her for telling Olivia.  Casey remembered the way she had tried so hard to hold back her tears when she said Olivia would be taking her home tonight.  She had been so angry.

“You don’t understand.  At least while I was here I thought I could look forward to going home with you.  I know you’ll throw me out eventually, whether to another family, or put me in jail if I’m not ‘cooperative’ enough, but if this was it…  If this was it, at least I could pretend…”

She had promised, promised, promised that they were going to make sure she would be okay afterwards.  But she was sure Jen knew she was promising something she had no confidence in her ability to make come true.

Still, Jen was snuggling up to her on the couch.  Casey could feel Alex watching them, and she wanted to stay tense.  But she finally gave in and let her arm slip around Jen’s waist to pull her closer.

Jen tucked her head into Casey’s shoulder and made sarcastic comments about the movie they were watching.  Casey wanted to kiss her.  It was funny, how Casey was still utterly attracted to Jen even when she was being her most childish.  But when she was dressed up and sexy Casey felt intimidated by her, and she wanted to fuck her to bring her back down to Casey’s level.  But when she was acting her age, being unconsciously affectionate, snarky, charming or vulnerable, Casey needed to kiss her, if only because she wanted to remember what it was like to be sixteen… what sixteen was supposed to be like.

Casey had been a senior at sixteen, already used to being ignored and disliked by everyone for being too young and too smart.  She had begun to feel like she didn’t fit in in her family, didn’t want what her dad wanted for her.  It had made things uncomfortable at home too. And through sideways means, like gossip and a taste for vampire fiction, she had started to realize that the things she wanted, the things she fantasized about, were absolutely wrong.  So she kept silent.  She felt like she hadn’t spoken that entire year.

Luckily Alex had some short pajamas, or Casey would be tripping over her dangling pant legs all night.  She wasn’t quite sure when she had been convinced to stay over, except that when she had suggested that it might be time for her to go, Alex had given her a look that said clearly, “do you know what time it is?  And do you remember what happened the last time you went walking out at night like this?”

Casey did remember, and meekly got ready for another night on the couch, albeit this time not her own.

Jen came in, still wet from the shower, disinterestedly drying her hair.

“You washed your hair?” asked Casey.

Jen gave her a grin.  “She has better stuff than you.”

Casey laughed and tried to not look when Jen let the towel slip to the floor to prowl through the nightclothes Alex had left out.  She failed.  Jen’s body was long and lean, but curved, and her skin was so smooth and unblemished that it looked like she had been carved from ivory.

“Fuck, why do you look so good naked?”  The words spilt from her lips, and Casey wished she felt more humiliated by saying them, but she couldn’t be.  Not when they were so absolutely true.

“Yeah?”  Jen straightened up, turning towards her.  “Which angle do you like best?”  She turned, showing off the curve of her breasts, the line of her shoulder, dappled with damp strands of hair, the twist of her torso as she turned, and the curve of her spine.

“That one.”

Jen stopped.  “The back?”

Casey swallowed, trying to control the moisture in her mouth.

“Alex read me the rules, you know.  The back is not off-limits.”

“Do you want…?”

“I always want you, Casey.  And if it takes me a year I am going to break you down until I have you.”

It was hard to breathe, harder still to move, but somehow Casey found herself so close, brushing the shock of dark hair over Jen’s shoulder so nothing would impede her, and then gently planting a kiss right below her shoulder.  Jen’s body shuddered, and Casey let her fingers come to rest on her sides, slowly stroking downwards as she kissed her again, between her shoulderblades and then ran her tongue along the curve of her spine to the small of her back.  She felt Jen start to crumble, and caught her, fingers splayed over her sides, and pushing her towards the guest bed.  Jen fell over it, and Casey’s hands slid down to cup her ass.  She couldn’t help sinking her teeth into the pale white flesh and Jen groaned, long and difficult.  Casey pushed her nose into the crack and then her tongue and Jen yelped.

“Shit!  Casey!  What are you-?”

Casey jerked away and covered her face horrified.  “I’m sorry!” she squeaked.  Jen rolled over and rubbed the bite-mark with a wince.

“That, I’m afraid, is off-limits.”  Jen grinned.  “Unless you really feel up to Olivia prosecuting you for sodomy.”

Casey mumbled something incomprehensible and staggered backwards until she could lean against the wall.  Jen found a shirt to pull on.

“Really, give an inch and you’ll take a mile.”  Jen gave her another look that was almost dangerous.  “This is going to be easier than I thought.”

***

Jen couldn’t sleep in Alex’s cold uncomfortable guest room sheets, thinking about what Casey had done to her.  She had covered it up well, but she had never been quite as terrified and turned on as she had then.  She had no idea that that was even an option.  But it was fucking hot, and the fact that Casey couldn't keep herself from doing it, was even hotter.

Casey was gone in the morning.  Jen looked at the folded blanket on the couch and then at Alex, who was breathing in her coffee like it was peyote.

“She left?”

“Crack of dawn.”

Jen nodded and took the coffee that Alex offered.  “Does this mean I have to wear your clothes?”

Alex gave her an oddly suspicious look, then a more thoughtful one.  “Do you have a lot of things… at that house?”

Jen shrugged.  “Not much.  We had our collections, things we scrounged up from here and there.  We all got new clothes the week before the inspector came.”

“Would you like to go back for some things?”

‘No.”  Jen’s voice was short and sharp.

“No one you want to say goodbye to?”

“No.”   Jen frowned.  “You don’t get it, do you?  You can’t just say because I’m not totally screwed up it means that I had a normal life.  I didn’t have a life.  I wasn’t a person.  I was just waiting, waiting for it to be over, waiting until I couldn’t stand it and would just throw myself in front of a bus.  I tried to lose myself for a while.  If I was distracted I didn’t feel sick.  If I was angry, I couldn’t be sad.  And if I hated those kids, I couldn’t pity myself, because I was a shitty person who deserved it.”

“I understand.”

Jen blinked.

“I was in witness protection for six months.  It wasn’t three years, but it could have been.  I know what it’s like to be waiting for your life to start again.”

“Did it start back up when you got back?”

“No.”

Jen nodded.  The coffee, black and thick like tar, coated the insides of her mouth with bitterness.

***


End file.
